The Smile
by Anna Scathach
Summary: Dr. Gerard was looking at the red-haired girl, his mouth open in amazement. Never had he seen such a beautiful smile. Not on a human being's lips, at least. 'Appointment with Death' oneshot.


_A/N: I'm back again, once more. Writing does seem to produce more writing ... hmm ...  
_

_Anyway, this piece was written thanks to my teacher Mrs Groffe. For a test, she presented us with the extract The Smile from Agatha Christie's novel _Appointment with Death_, which I have reposted below, separated from the actual text by rulers, and asked us to draw the portrait of Dr. Gerard as he is looking at the girl, including physical description, attitude and feelings, with a minimum length of 150 words. So here is what I made of it... I have never read that particular novel of Agatha Christie's by the way, so don't expect the following to be accurate in any way._

___Disclaimer: Anything you might recognise (characters, setting, etc.) is not mine, it all belongs to Agatha Christie, her publishers, her heirs etc. No copyright infringement intended._

* * *

_**The Smile

* * *

**_

He turned his attention to the youngest member of the party – the girl with the golden red hair. She was, perhaps, nineteen. Her skin had the exquisite clearness that often goes with red hair. Although over thin, it was a beautiful face. She was sitting smiling to herself – smiling into space. There was something a little curious about that smile. It was so far removed from the Solomon Hotel, from Jerusalem. It reminded Dr. Gerard of something. Presently it came to him in a flash. It was the strange unearthly smile that lifts the lips of the Maidens in the Acropolis at Athens – something remote and lovely and a little inhuman. The magic of the smile, her exquisite stillness gave him a little pang.

And then, with a shock, Dr. Gerard noticed her hands. They were concealed from the group round her by the table, but he could see them clearly from where he sat. In the shelter of her lap they were picking – picking – tearing a delicate handkerchief into tiny shreds.

It gave him a horrible shock. The aloof remote smile – the still body – and the busy destructive hands.

* * *

He was looking at the red-haired girl, his mouth open in amazement. Never had he seen such a beautiful smile. Not on a human being's lips, at least. It seemed so far removed from that place, from all human society that it attracted his attention like a red cloth catches the bull's eye – dangerous, gorgeous, and inevitably deadly.

He himself could never have smiled that way. Dr. Gerard never smiled, he simply grinned or smirked, but seldom did his mouth curl up into a true warm smile that made his brown eyes sparkle in the light. He could never look as absorbed, as withdrawn from everything human like the girl did. First of all, he could not be called handsome – although some women had pretended to see beauty in his curly brown hair, his sparkling eyes and muscular tall frame. Second, he was not one to hide away his true feelings beneath a surreal mask, may it be a magical smile or not. He was impulsive, mischievous on occasion, never grieving for long.

He could never remain focused on one thing for a long time. That was why he had chosen to come to Jerusalem originally. In his home town, mockery was not tolerated among the cultivated society he had once belonged to. Alas, he had been too carefree, too savage for their refined circles, never respecting social rank or financial status when it had been required. Although he knew she hadn't wanted him to go, his mother had urged him to leave. She had known he would never find his equal in Derbyshire.

Therefore, at the moment he was in Jerusalem, watching a pretty girl's smile and feeling at ease with herself. Throughout his travels, he had never seen such a girl, such a smile – although there had been many girl and many smiles. They had all wanted him as a husband, seeing the handsome, probably rich young stranger as an opportunity to escape their families' severe control.

Unconsciously, he smiled as well. It was strange that such a girl should be alone, that she should tear apart her handkerchief in such a violent way. In his country, few girls could be compared to this redhead whose hair shone with a golden halo in the dim light. To him, it truly was shocking to see such actions in a girl, yes, even he felt covetous of her ability to deceive, to play a role, to be someone else. Had he been capable of that, he would not have had to leave, he would have lived a life of pretence in Derbyshire.

* * *

_A/N: What do you think? Love it? Hate it? Indifferent? I should really read the novel sometime (which I eventually will, I just can't right now)? Please review_!

_Anna Scathach_


End file.
